Nor did it say that he was missing.
He said something worse because he turned abandonment into a conscious decision.
Mercedes claimed that Gabriel already knew about the birth of the child, that he had received news from Isabel, and that he wanted no connection with them.
Then a phrase appeared that Gabriel remembered hearing hundreds of times during his youth, although never in that way.
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A man who aspired to build something important could not allow an early mistake to decide the rest of his life.
Gabriel closed his eyes for just a moment.
Mercedes had used almost the same words when he accepted that temporary job in Madrid.
“Don’t waste your future on a farm and a life that’s too small,” he told her.
At the time, he had interpreted it as the usual harshness of an ambitious mother.
Now it sounded different.
Adrian lifted the
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—It says here that you knew I had been born.
-I didn’t know.
—You already said that.
—And it’s true.
Adrian clutched the letter between his fingers.
—I grew up thinking that my father knew perfectly well where we were and simply didn’t want to come.
Gabriel swallowed hard.
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He could buy hotels, buildings, and land without hesitation.
He could sit in front of investors and discuss enormous figures without his voice trembling.
But he could not defend himself against that statement because he understood that, for Adrián, nineteen years of absence weighed more than any explanation uttered in an afternoon.
“I’m not going to ask you to believe me today,” Gabriel said. “I’m only asking you not to destroy that letter.”
Isabel looked at him suspiciously.
-So that?
Gabriel pointed to the envelope he was still holding.
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—Because I supposedly wrote the first letter. My mother wrote this one. If they’re both part of the same thing, I want
to understand how he did it.
Adrian let out a dry laugh.
—And then what? Are you going to fix nineteen years with an explanation?
-No.
The answer came out too quickly to be calculated.
Adrian seemed surprised.
Gabriel continued.
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